


Ruby Red

by spicyboyfriend



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ambiguous Relationships, Fluff, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 10:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11206053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyboyfriend/pseuds/spicyboyfriend
Summary: Jinho sighed, leaning back in his seat and fanning himself with his hand. The layers of red robes his father forced Jinho to wear while on the road did little to help with the ridiculous heat, except maybe soak up his sweat. He would strip himself of his clothes, lounge in only his baji and perhaps the silk undershirt his mother had gifted him for his coming of age ceremony years ago, but he could still fit in, but....There was him.





	Ruby Red

**Author's Note:**

> WOW HELLO i wanted to write this ever since the critical beauty mv dropped and i saw [this](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DCVRKkQVYAAUPTT.jpg) with wooseok and jinho and i just. I JUST COULDN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT LIKE PRINCE!JINHO OR ROYAL JINHO BEING CARRIED AROUND BY WOOSEOK
> 
> anyway this has the potential to be turned into a full length story but i'd like to study more on history and stuff before i even think of giving it a try so i ;;; deeply apologize for historical inaccuracies... i think if i end up writing this, i'll keep it to joseon dynasty.... THIS IS JUST RAMBLING SORRY anyway it's 4:30 am please excuse me for typos i will totally correct them when i wake up in the morning dlgjflj

The sun radiated sweltering heat on this particular summer day. Jinho sat beside the small pool of water beside his sleeping quarters, drawn up for him after his father had the family set on the road for politics once again, the crown prince demanding his father’s political presence, and his father caring just a bit too much about the public’s opinion on his family. 

Truthfully, Jinho’s father had a bit of an obsession with keeping his family interweaved with the political world, as his father was not only a political figure, but his mother a close friend to the crown prince. 

Before marrying Jinho’s father, she had sat in on plenty of meetings between the crown prince and other strong government officials, which she had no right in doing, but the prince insisted she be there for all of the meetings. There were always rumors that, before marrying Jinho’s father, his mother was a potential bride-to-be to the prince.

_ And how nice that would have been,  _ Jinho thought bitterly,  _ being the son to the crown prince, instead of the pack-mule son of a politician at the beck and call of the crown prince. _

Jinho sighed, leaning back in his seat and fanning himself with his hand. The layers of red robes his father forced Jinho to wear while on the road did little to help with the ridiculous heat, except maybe soak up his sweat. He would strip himself of his clothes, lounge in only his  _ baji  _ and perhaps the silk undershirt his mother had gifted him for his coming of age ceremony years ago, but he could still fit in, but....

There was  _ him. _

Jinho peered across the table towards the tall figure sitting on the ground, kneeling on a mat as he used one hand to keep himself propped up, and the other to scrawl lazy writing over a sheet of parchment paper.

 

His name was Wooseok— Jung Wooseok. His father had presented him as Yi Jong, the bastard son of a farmer who had long since died. He was to be Jinho’s personal servant, as his father had nothing useful for Wooseok to actually do as far as political advising went.

It was easy for Jinho to figure out on the first day that his name was not actually Yi Jong. Besides the fact that his father lied plenty of times to Jinho about these kinds of things, Wooseok didn’t answer to Yi Jong when called. Jinho couldn’t count on both hands how many times he had called his “name”, only for Wooseok to stutter and apologize for “not hearing” when he was called.

On the second day, Wooseok told him his name— his real name. Jinho said he would call him Wooseok in private only, as there must have been a reason for his father to lie about his name. Wooseok perked up when Jinho said his name.

_ “You will sign your name as Yi Jong in public places, but in private, you can sign your name Wooseok... though I don’t know what we would ever need to privately send each other letters for,” Jinho had said, which made Wooseok squirm uneasily in his seat. “What is it?” _

_ Wooseok furrowed his brows together, his baby like features completely contrasting with the frustrated expression on his face. He looked like a child, Jinho almost pointed out, but knew it would backfire on him, as he was the shortest out of the family, and now, the shortest compared to even his servant, who was an impressive 188cm tall. _

_ “I... never learned that,” Wooseok said carefully. _

_ “What? Signing your name? It’s the same as writing it for school, just a little messier since the teachers don’t care—” _

_ “Ah, I mean.... I don’t know how to write.” _

_ Jinho stopped short at that, his voice caught in his throat as Wooseok sheepishly looked down at his hands resting in his lap. His knees ached from sitting on the ground for so long, but he refused to sit across from Jinho at the table. _

_ “Or read,” Wooseok supplied. “My family didn’t have the means to send me to school.” _

_ “Oh.” Jinho wanted to hit himself with a book for sounding so dumbfounded. _

_ “I can learn,” Wooseok reassured. “I’m quick to learn. I can write my name when you need me to.” _

_ “If you’re going to learn how to write your name, you may as well learn how to write and read in general.” Jinho waved one of his mother’s aides over, smiling at her sweetly and asking her to bring parchment paper and ink over. _

_ “You don’t have to do that, my lord.” _

_ “I’m not a lord,” Jinho said, tone sharp. “I’m not a prince, or a government official, nor am I a scholar.” _

_ “What would you have me call you, then, if not lord?” _

_ “My name would be a start.” _

_ “I think your father would prefer it if I called you lord.” _

_ “I’ll consider it.” Jinho paused, glancing up at the sky, waiting. The aide came back from fetching paper and ink, setting it down on the table. Jinho cleared his throat. “I considered it. My name is still where you will start.” Jinho gestured to the seat across from him. “Now sit over here. We start your lessons today.” _

 

“My lord.”

Wooseok’s voice was sudden and loud from across the table, scaring Jinho back from his thoughts as he blinked, clearing his vision. It was so hot outside, he was starting to  _ sweat,  _ and the sweat was starting to catch on his eyelashes.

_ “Jinho,” _ he corrected impatiently.

“.... My lord, would you like me to get a fan?”

“No, I don’t want you to do that,” Jinho snapped. Wooseok nodded his head. “It’s too hot here. It’s humid. The water makes it unbearable.”

“We can go inside?” Wooseok gestured towards the sleeping quarters, a long hall leading to Jinho’s own cordoned off section. Wooseok was to sleep outside of his sleeping quarters, on a mat  with the bugs and night winds outside. Jinho dragged Wooseok’s mat inside the night before and told Wooseok if he went back outside to sleep, Jinho would also sleep outside. Wooseok didn’t argue much. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk. Don’t follow me,” Jinho said, having already pushed himself out of his chair and headed towards the exit of his quarters. Undoubtedly his father would be busy catering to the crown prince, and his mother would be with her own “assets”, as she put it so plainly, so Jinho would be free to escape the courtyard and head up to higher ground, the hills having more of a breeze on these hot summer days.

Jinho ended up out of the courtyard, definitely not remaining inconspicuous in his ruby red hanbok, gold trim and symbols embroidered into it as people moved away from his path. His father would have been throwing an absolute fit if he knew he had gone out without so much as his server, let alone a guard, as he said Jinho was  _ required  _ to take with him when he went anywhere.

Jinho ended up halfway up a trail towards a higher mountain, holding the bottom of his robes so they didn’t touch the dirty path, before he noticed the loud sound of a branch snapping behind him. Immediately he turned on his heel, nearly falling flat on his ass. His heart calmed when he noticed it was only Wooseok following him.

“Yi Jong, I told you to stay there!” Jinho said, using Wooseok’s name just in case anybody else could hear. Wooseok looked over his shoulder, before realizing it was him that Jinho was referring to.

“I know,” Wooseok said simply.

“Why didn’t you stay back, then?”

Wooseok hummed, thinking for a moment before responding with a simple shrug of his shoulders. Jinho let out a deep scolding sigh, folding his hands together in front of him and frowning at Wooseok. 

“If you’re going to follow, then at least hold my robes for me.”

“Sure,” Wooseok agreed easily, catching up to Jinho and holding the bottom of his hanbok, his hand low so he could keep it semi level with the band of Jinho’s pants.

They walked uphill for a little longer, Wooseok crouching over to accommodate Jinho on the way up. Finally they reached the top of the hill. It wasn’t all that much cooler up there, but there were trees along the path, so the little bit of shade offered a respite from the blasting heat from the sun.

“I’m gonna sit down,” Jinho warned. Wooseok stopped him, moving to undo the knot on his  _ jeogori,  _ deep green in color, to show his status in the family as far as being a servant went. Before Jinho could stop him, he set it down on the boulder Jinho planned to sit on, nodding his head towards it. “I didn’t warn you so you could set that down, you know. I warned you so you could let go of the bottom of my robes.”

“Yes, I understood that,” Wooseok said with the simple nod of his head. Jinho studied Wooseok for a moment, his eyes flickering up and down Wooseok’s tall stature, now standing only in his white undershirt. For a moment, Jinho thought of tugging off his own hanbok, but he knew his father would rather die than let Jinho be seen walking back to their sleeping quarters with dirty robes. The most Wooseok would get for dirtying his  _ jeogori  _ would be some chiding from the other servants who had to do the laundry.

“Sit with me,” Jinho ordered. Wooseok nodded his head, but didn’t sit with Jinho on the boulder, but on the dirt, cross legged, not caring about the judgmental look Jinho cast his way after he settled on his knees.

Truth be told, Jinho wasn’t quite sure why he asked Wooseok to sit with him. He didn’t know why he didn’t just send Wooseok back to their sleeping quarters, because he could have, and Wooseok would have left.

But honestly, maybe there was a part of Jinho that enjoyed having somebody wait on him this way. As much as he complained and told Wooseok not to do so, there was a part of him that felt... appreciative, almost, that somebody doted on him so heavily, without question, without hesitance or anger or irritation with him. 

Wooseok was there for him when he woke up in the mornings and when he went to bed at night; listened to him when he was upset and didn’t tell him he was ridiculous or stupid for being upset. Wooseok was young, yes— actually, much younger than Jinho was, and he came from a different background, but there was still something there.

 

It wasn’t long after Wooseok revealed his real name that he also revealed the second lie Jinho’s father concealed from him after “giving” Wooseok to him.

_ “Your father wasn’t really a farmer, was he?” Jinho said suddenly, catching Wooseok off guard from reading a book Jinho had first read when he was young, at least 10 years younger than Wooseok was at the moment. Wooseok tensed at the question, his shoulders rising as he looked up at him. _

_ “W-what?” _

_ Jinho repositioned himself in his seat. “My dad said you’re the bastard son of a farmer, but that’s not true, is it?” _

_ “Of course it is,” Wooseok replied, more insistent on this than he was when it came to admitting his name. _

_ “But why would my father care about the bastard son of a farmer?” Jinho traced his fingers across the parchment paper in front of him, smearing the ink and not caring much for the mess it left behind on his fingertips. Wooseok didn’t meet his gaze, just stared down at his paper and set his brush down for another swipe of ink. _

_ “Respectfully,” he prefaced, “I suppose that would be a question to ask your father, my lord.” _

_ “And if I demanded you tell me?” Jinho pressed. Wooseok looked up at him, finally, their eyes meeting, and... god, he looked so pitiful. So upset that Jinho was even bringing it up. _

_ “Please, don’t make me.” _

_ Jinho pushed himself away from his seat, left Wooseok there to stew in the fact that he had completely ignored Jinho’s demand, albeit with a plea to leave it alone. _

_ When Jinho came back, Wooseok was sitting on the floor, eating dinner, and only stopped to bow and greet Jinho back for the night. _

 

Jinho glanced down at Wooseok, still seated on the ground beside him, but he was looking up, staring at the sky. He noticed Jinho staring at him, smiled for a split second. Jinho grimaced and flicked a pebble at his forehead.

 

_ A month had passed since their small argument, and Jinho hadn’t pressed on the subject anymore. But— well, it had been a month! Jinho wanted answers, and neither of his parents were planning on giving them. _

_ So on a spring morning, after waking up to the sound of birds whistling and wind chimes echoing outside, Jinho grabbed Wooseok and sat him down on his bed. Wooseok immediately jumped up, apologizing for sitting down, only to have Jinho shove him down again. _

_ “This is your bed, this is— not allowed! Let me stand up!” _

_ “Maybe this is not allowed for Yi Jong, but you are not Yi Jong.” _

_ That shut Wooseok up almost immediately. _

_ “You are  _ not  _ Yi Jong. You didn’t grow up on a farm, and you didn’t become my servant my chance.” _

_ Wooseok shook his head. _

_ “No, I’m not.” _

_ Jinho half-expected to feel a rush of triumph at the admittance of the truth, but with Wooseok’s words came... shame. A tone of embarrassment, bordering on frustration. He was angry with someone, but it wasn’t Jinho. _

_ “My name is Jung Wooseok, and I’m 18 years old.” Wooseok took a deep breath in, brows furrowed still. “My father’s name was Jung Wooksoon, and he was... a rebel.” _

_ Everything stopped. Wooseok stopped. Jinho felt like he couldn’t breathe. _

_ “He was a prominent politician in our village. He had radical views about the king and the crown prince. I... never particularly cared for what he did. My mother never did either. We just wanted to have a father and a husband, respectively.”  _

_ Wooseok’s hands were trembling in his lap. Jinho sat down beside Wooseok, Wooseok too distracted by his own story to apologize to Jinho for sitting on the same level as him. _

_ “He led a coup against the council in our own village— and he won.” Wooseok sighed. “We warned him that once the news reached the crown prince... we  _ warned  _ him that they wouldn’t let him live.” _

_ “Wooseok, are you going to tell me that my father killed your father?” Jinho said. “If you are, just tell me.” _

_ “Truthfully, I don’t know who killed my father,” replied Wooseok, quiet, casual. “He died of poison, so it could have been anybody. But your father  _ did  _ kill my mother.” _

_ Jinho’s blood ran cold. _

_ “Or someone your father hired killed my mother. I don’t know.” Wooseok hummed. “And they dragged me and my sister out of our home. Your father took me and said I would be lucky to live for longer than a week. I don’t know who took my sister, but I’m assuming she’s in a brothel somewhere.” _

_ Without thinking, Jinho nearly protested, said that Wooseok didn’t know that definitely, but... the way Wooseok said it seemed resigned. He wasn’t up for discussion about it. _

_ “Do you want to kill my father?” Jinho said. Wooseok took a moment to answer, his lips pursed with thought before he shook his head. _

_ “I don’t think so. At first, maybe. When your father had me dragged into the streets of my village, yes. But it’s been almost a year since then, and a few months since he spared my life and allowed me to become your servant. I’m not as angry as I once was.” _

_ Jinho glanced around the room. He had long since dismissed the guard outside of his room, and truth be told, they almost knew better now than to post guard at his door when Jinho had Wooseok around. _

_ “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to kill him,” mumbled Jinho. Wooseok looked at him from his spot beside him on the bed. _

_ “Don’t say things like that.” _

_ “Why not?” Jinho challenged. _

_ “They’ll have you executed for treason.” _

_ “They don’t execute for treason.” _

_ “My mother was murdered for treason my father committed. Don’t... don’t be stupid,” Wooseok paused, and then tacked on, “respectfully.” _

_ Jinho looked at Wooseok, their eyes meeting for the first time, and he... laughed. It escaped him without even realizing it, and before Wooseok knew it, he was giggling, too, despite the slight budding tears in the corners of his eyes, the way his chest burned at the reminder of his parents, and his missing sister. _

_ “Are you going to kill me instead of my father?” Jinho said once they had settled. Wooseok sputtered, an expression of pure shock taking over his face. _

_ “Why would I do that?!” _

_ “I don’t know.... Revenge? Eye for an eye? Some other scholarly saying?” _

_ “That’s stupid.” _

_ Jinho snickered again, but was cut short by Wooseok speaking again. _

_ “I like you, hyung.” _

 

Wooseok rose to his feet suddenly, the movement catching Jinho off guard. Jinho looked over his shoulder, following Wooseok’s gaze to the far distance of the city’s gates. Just a little further beyond it was a line of men, some of them perched on horses, some of them tied up with rope being dragged along, some of them walking the rest of the way. They were dressed in all black— not the colors of the crown prince.

“Those aren’t our soldiers,” Wooseok said. Jinho stood up on the rock, making Wooseok chide him and pull him down off of it. “Do you want them to see us?”

“As if they can’t already see the giant on the hill,” Jinho grumbled, but stood beside Wooseok and tried peering just over the edge of the city walls. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know, but... we should get back to your quarters.”

“Ah, you worry too much,” Jinho said.

“Hyung,” Wooseok continued. “Please. After you.”

Jinho hadn’t heard that tone of voice in Wooseok’s voice... ever. He was serious, demanding. Almost upset, if Jinho didn’t know better. Swallowing hard, Jinho turned to grab Wooseok’s  _ jeogori _ , handing it to him before Wooseok allowed him to walk ahead of him, following closely behind.

The sudden stress of the soldiers beyond the wall, the way Wooseok panicked at the sight of them, partnered with the heat that was still getting to Jinho’s head more than anything else— all of it served to make Jinho anxious, shaking, legs like jelly as he tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, one more step, only a few more until—

Jinho felt his ankle slip from underneath him, a rock knocking him off of his balance, falling near face first into the dirt trail in front of him. Wooseok caught him by the back of his hanbok, a tearing  _ riiiip!  _ filling the air as Wooseok pulled Jinho back up on his feet.

“Aah, it stings,” Jinho said, his ankle throbbing already. A numbing sensation spread through Jinho’s foot, at his ankle, and already, he could feel a dull ache building with every throbbing pulse of pain through the muscle.

“Did you break something?” Wooseok said, holding Jinho against his side.

“No, nothing’s broken. Just help me walk the rest of the way.”

“Respectfully—”

“Wooseok!” Jinho chided.

“I’m going to carry you on my back,” Wooseok said. Before Jinho could protest, Wooseok had lifted Jinho onto his back, carefully repositioning Jinho until he had a firm grip on him. “I have longer legs. I can walk faster.”

“Wooseok, put me down right now. This is embarrassing, and I could still walk the rest of the way. You’re being unreasonable!”

“Yi Jong listens to your orders,” Wooseok reminded. “I’m not Yi Jong.”

“Damn you for using my words against me,” hissed Jinho. That being said, Jinho didn’t kick or squirm against Wooseok anymore. Instead, he settled on Wooseok’s back, holding onto the thin material of Wooseok’s undershirt while Wooseok took steady, calm steps down the hill, finally reaching the bottom. 

But he didn’t stop to let Jinho down, and instead, carried him all the way back to the courtyard, carrying Jinho up the stairs towards his sleeping quarters. On the way, they passed Jinho’s mother, who appeared absolutely mortified at the state of Jinho’s clothes, but couldn’t comment on it. Already, the drums in the main palace were summoning all the high officials, including Jinho’s father.

“Wooseok,” Jinho said, hardly paying attention to the clamoring of the other servants running out of their rooms, to the courtyard, ready to talk about who the strange soldiers were outside of their city gates.

“Hm?”

“Do you...  _ did  _ you carry people like this often?”

Wooseok let out a wry laugh, more of a breathy noise before looked over his shoulder.

“Do you mean my sister?”

“Yes,” Jinho said, face flushed with embarrassment.

“I did do this for her a lot when we were little.”

Jinho leaned his head against Wooseok’s back, moving his fingers along the seam of his shirt, resting on a loose piece of fabric around his shoulder and fisting it between his fingers.

Jinho felt Wooseok take a deep breath, seeming to level off the closer they got to Jinho’s quarters. “Did she like it?”

Wooseok nodded.

Jinho took a moment to collect himself, focusing on the gentle in-out of Wooseok’s breathing, of his own breathing; on how Wooseok’s arms held him in place on his back. Jinho was... cozy.

“Huh,” was all Jinho could say before he realized they were outside of his sleeping quarters. He had to change, clean himself up, call a doctor to see his ankle. All of that, and as Wooseok sat him down on his bed, he looked up to find Wooseok giving him a dopey grin.

“Huh.”

**Author's Note:**

> i left the relationship between wooseok and jinho ambiguous lsjdldfj
> 
> again pls ;;; spare me for typos it's 4 in the morning and i havent slept
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/iIyssssm) or [tumblr](http://ilyssssm.tumblr.com/) if you want!! thank u for reading this mess thank u ;;;


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